The Road Not Taken
by startraveller776
Summary: On the eve of her wedding, Sarah has a chance meeting with the magical king of her past. SARETH


_Disclaimer:_ I do not own Labyrinth or any of the characters, unfortunately. I merely weave tales for my pleasure and yours. No copyright infringement is intended.  
><em>Summary:<em> On the eve of her wedding, Sarah has a chance meeting with the magical king of her past.

**Warning:** This story took a life of its own. It would seem that I'm attempting to give Stephanie Meyers a run for her money in the angst department. Many, many apologies. (Blame my muse. It's totally her fault!) Yes, I hear you now: "Noooooooooooo! Not another angsty tale! I follow you because you write humor and fluff. Where's the humor and fluff, dagnabit! Give me giggles and a happy ending!" To which I reply (whilst holding my laptop up like a shield): "But, but 'bittersweet' is good too. Please read! Pleeeeaaaaaassssse." (Yes, I am not above begging.)

I vow that my next Laby-fic will be completely angst-free and full of humor!

**A/N:** Originally, "Just a Dream" was intended to be a companion piece to this story, but that turned creepier and darker than I planned. So, while there may still be threads that seem to connect the two stories, please know that they are not related to one another anymore. (And by extension, rest assured that while angst-riddled and sad, this story is not dark.)

A thousand thanks to my wonderful beta, **UndergroundDaydreams**! If you haven't yet discovered her work, I strongly suggest that you go to my profile, after finishing this tale, and find her under my favorite authors.

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><p><strong>The Road Not Taken<strong>

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><p>Sarah couldn't breathe. The celebration happening around her—women screaming like girls, drinks sloshing everywhere, scantily-clad men dancing to loud music—was too much. She was suffocating in the din of her bachelorette party, drowning in the gaiety. She pushed through the throng of her giggling, drunken pals, searching for her maid of honor and best friend, Jesse. The crowd screamed again, presumably because the stripper on stage had removed another article of clothing, and Sarah covered her ears. If she didn't get out of there soon, she thought she might not survive until the morning.<p>

A hand fell on her arm and she jerked away instinctively, turning to see who had grabbed at her. Jesse stood before her with narrowed eyes and hands on her hips. "Where do you think you're going?" she yelled over the noise. "You're the guest of honor!"

Sarah shook her head. "I need some air."

"What?" Jesse stepped closer. "What did you say?"

Sarah took Jesse's hand and pulled her toward the exit where it was quieter. "I'm tired," she said. "I'm going back to the hotel."

"You can't leave yet!" Jesse looked appalled by the idea. "This is your last night of freedom. Debauchery until dawn is the rule."

Sarah hugged Jesse. The woman was half-insane most of the time and completely nuts the rest, but Sarah loved her. "You guys carry on without me. Just tell the girls I puked or something cool like that."

Disappointment swept over Jesse's face. "If you're sure, hon. Do you want me to call you a cab or something?"

Sarah smiled. "No, I didn't drink anything."

"I think you totally missed the point of a bachelorette party." Jesse snorted.

Sarah shrugged. "That's why I've got you—to mentor me in the mysterious ways of partying." She turned Jesse toward the crowd of squealing women and gave her a gentle push. "Now go enjoy yourself some naked men while I get some beauty sleep for my wedding."

Jesse gave her questioning look, and Sarah waved her on. Before she pushed the door open, she glanced at the stage in time to see the male stripper gyrating in a thong, and she cringed. No, this was definitely not how she wanted to spend her last night of freedom.

Outside the moon was full and bright, and the early summer air was cool. Sarah closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, feeling her lungs expand. This was what she needed—open sky and quiet. The bar was surrounded by a thick forest of trees, being the sole establishment on the highway for miles. Sarah was glad to be away from the city.

A twinkling light teased at the corner of her eye, but when she turned there was only the darkness of the forest. She shook herself. Ever since that night, fifteen years ago, she had always felt like there was something unseen nearby, and if she would just turn quick enough, she would discover something magical. It was a silly notion, a left-over from the naivety of youth. There was no magic here in her world, not like the kind she experienced in the Labyrinth.

Sarah had never regretted her choice. She had learned valuable lessons in the Underground, but this was her home—where she was meant to be. Of course, it didn't mean she stopped thinking of her friends—though their faces had ceased to appear in her vanity mirror long ago—nor did she forget the king of the goblins.

The light appeared again as Sarah continued to peer into the forest. It wavered then dissipated before materializing deeper into the stand of trees. Goosebumps prickled her skin and her heart began pounding. She should get into her car and head back toward the hotel—

The light paused, hanging still as if beckoning her to follow.

She took a tentative step off the asphalt of the parking lot. This was dangerous, she told herself. Who knew what waited for her under the canopy of evergreens? And yet…

And yet, this could be Sarah's last adventure—her last impulsive moment before embracing the responsibilities that come with marriage and a family. She gave one last glance at the bar, hearing the muted sounds of laughter, squeals, and the pulsing bass of the music, before darting into the foliage toward the waiting glow. The cool air rushed against her as she ran, billowing the skirt of her dress behind her. She felt so…_alive_!

As if sensing her decision, the light danced forward, traveling deeper into the woods. Sarah chased after it, ignoring the way her pumps pinched her toes with each stride. The trees grew closer together, and she had to hold her arms up to keep the low branches from whipping her in the face, but she didn't slow down. She wanted to catch the light, discover what it was. Her laughter rang out in the forest, echoing off the ancient trees. This was so much better than dancing men and girlfriends saturated in alcohol.

Just when Sarah reached the light—a glowing orb—and stretched her hand to touch it, it vanished. She stopped, panting as she looked around. There were trees everywhere. She couldn't see the bar, and for a moment, worry grabbed hold of her. Had she lost herself in the woods the night before her wedding?

Before she could give herself a proper lecture on her foolishness, she heard music coming from the direction that she'd been running toward. It was soft and lilting, almost hypnotic, and Sarah was faced with another choice: go forward or attempt to find her way back.

_I've come this far already._ She stepped hesitantly toward the music, more cautious now. Briefly, she felt the odd sensation of walking through a wall of warm water, her movements heavy and slow until she crossed the invisible barrier. When she looked back, she saw nothing different in the forest behind her. Had it merely been her overactive imagination?

The music grew louder with each step she took, and soon the trees began to thin out. Ahead she could see a clearing, at the center of which people were dancing around a large bonfire. She crept closer, staying among the trees to avoid notice. As she watched the celebration, she noticed that there was something inhuman about the dancers. They were dressed in archaic finery, moving in ways that she'd only seen in period performances. And they were ethereal in their beauty. They reminded her of—

She heard a rustle of movement nearby and hid herself behind a tree, her heart fluttering against her ribcage. Peeking around the trunk, she saw a couple walking arm-in-arm toward the dancing beings, speaking softly to one another. Sarah's breath caught when she recognized the wild blond hair of the Goblin King. His companion was a striking woman with golden curls and pale skin that shimmered like the stars.

They paused at the edge of the meadow, and he murmured something to the woman, releasing her arm and caressing her cheek with a gloved hand. She gave him a kiss before leaving him behind. Sarah blushed at witnessing such a tender moment, surprised that her old nemesis was capable of genuine affection.

She watched as he leaned against the nearest trunk and sighed, looking away from the festivities. He wore a dark coat—the color was impossible to decipher in the moonlight—with the white lace of his shirt spilling out of his collar and cuffs. The rest of his attire was as regal as she remembered, but he seemed different—deflated, haunted—as if he had lost part of what had once made him larger than life. Sarah frowned, wondering what had happened to the irrepressible trickster.

He conjured a crystal, dancing it across his hands a few times before holding it in front of him. His mouth moved with some kind of incantation, and while, to Sarah's eyes, the sphere didn't change, it was obvious that he saw something in its depths. His brow furrowed, and his mismatched eyes snapped up to meet hers.

Sarah clamped a hand over her mouth to mute the frightened squeak that escaped her, and flattened against the tree. Had he seen her? What would he do if he had? She could imagine that he would not be pleased to cross paths with her again—not after the way she had destroyed his castle. She shook her head at her self-importance. He probably didn't even remember her. She was sure she had been just one of hundreds of mortals to run his Labyrinth during his tenure there. For all she knew, she wasn't the first or the last to defeat his maze. She had been another face in a sea of impertinent, self-centered adolescents, that's all. The thought hurt her, and she didn't know why.

Grasping a shaky thread of courage, she peeked around the tree and found that he was gone. Instead of relief, she felt a wave of disappointment. Why? She should have been afraid to encounter her childhood adversary, but she supposed the intervening years had changed her perception of him. He hadn't been evil, had he? Arrogant, taunting, sure, but not evil. He'd challenged her, had pushed her past the point of breaking, but he'd never put her in real danger.

Sarah released the breath that she'd been holding and her gaze drifted back to the dancers. She watched them for several breaths, letting the unearthly scene imprint on her memory, before turning back the way she had come. Her heart stopped when she found Jareth standing before her, his head tilted with curiosity in his eyes. He stepped toward her, and she retreated.

"Are you an apparition?" he asked in hushed tones. "Come to torment me this night?"

Sarah shook her head, unable to find her voice.

He reached forward, brushing his gloved fingers against her cheek. "You _are_ real—beautifully real." A flash of longing crossed his face, so quickly that she thought she might have imagined it. He snatched his hand away and narrowed his eyes. "What are you doing here?"

"I followed a light." It seemed silly when she said it out loud.

Jareth laughed, but it was without mirth. "Oh, Sarah. Ever the impetuous girl." He stroked her cheek again. "No, not a girl any longer."

His words pebbled her skin with gooseflesh, and she swallowed. He remembered her. Had he been this alluring before? As a youth she had recognized his breathtaking beauty, been drawn to it even as she feared him. And when they had danced, she had been confused by the stirrings she felt in his arms—stirrings she later knew were the beginnings of a more mature attraction, one that she had not ready for then. Now that she had benefit of age and experience, she understood the intent behind his unwavering scrutiny, and felt a small thrill spark in her middle.

"Indeed, you have blossomed as I always knew you would." He smirked. "And yet, you still don't understand the dangerous game you play."

Sarah blinked, confused. "I'm not playing a game."

Jareth quirked a brow. "Aren't you? You chase after magic and think yourself impervious to the consequences."

Consequences? A chill dove down Sarah's spine with that word. "I… I didn't know."

His face darkened. "You never do." He stepped forward, pinning her in place with his gaze. "You follow your careless impulses, taking no thought for the boundaries you cross, for the destruction you leave in your wake." His tone was harsh, but his expression was almost wounded.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. The words felt hollow, inadequate in some way. Was it possible that _she_ was the cause of the melancholy that dimmed his once vibrant eyes?

Jareth snorted. "What if I told you that you heedlessly followed a wisp, a _lure_—that you are meant to be a plaything for my companions on this night of celebration?" He nodded toward the clearing. "What if I told you that they will keep you until they grow tired of you? And with your beauty…" he paused, twirling a lock of her dark hair, "…they might never let you go." His mismatched eyes bored into hers. "Would you say that it isn't fair, Sarah?"

Fear gripped her as she understood the mistake she had made. She was still the stupid, foolish girl, she realized. "No."

"Ah. Finally have a basis for comparison, do you?" He gave her a sardonic grin. "You needn't fear my friends. I'm far too selfish to let them have my Sarah."

_My Sarah_. She repeated the phrase in her mind, trembling at the implications. "You intend to keep me for yourself."

Jareth threw back his head and let loose a deep laugh, reminiscent of the antihero of her teenage years. "How you tempt me." He shook his head. "So very tempting, beautiful girl." The caress in his voice sent another wave of goosebumps over her.

"It's too late for that." His expression turned grim again. "Let us strike a bargain. I ask but a small price for your freedom—a trifle, really." He held out a gloved hand. "Will you give me a dance?"

Sarah's eyes widened in surprise. "You're going to let me go?"

"Against my every desire."

He pulled her to him, as if she had given consent, and spun her in languid circles to the music wafting from the meadow. She didn't fight him, deciding that one last dance with the Goblin King was worth a safe trip back to her world. Their movements were natural, graceful, much like she remembered from their dance years ago. For a moment, she could see the crystal ballroom again as he guided her steps.

"Tell me something, Sarah." Jareth's breath was warm against her ear. "How is it that you can be so very clever—enough to defeat my Labyrinth—and yet, still be so ignorant?"

Sarah pulled back, frowning. "Ignorant? Do you mean when I stumbled into this place?"

"More than that. So much more than that." He stared down at her as if he could discover her deepest secrets with his unusual eyes. "Beautiful, cruel Sarah, I would have given you everything." He tightened his arm around her, pressing her body against his, and rested his cheek on her head. "How I wish…" He let the words trail off. "But then, no one grants the wishes of the Goblin King."

The bitterness in his voice was like a dagger in her chest. He had truly loved her, she realized—_still_ loved her. Did she love him in return? Something new and painful stirred in her heart at the question. Though she hadn't loved him then, she understood with stark clarity that she might have come to love him if they had found each other again, before… But he was right; it was too late for what might have been. She loved Jeff, her fiancé, and wouldn't desert him—no matter how torn she felt now, swaying in Jareth's arms.

"I'm sorry," she whispered into his shoulder, involuntary tears brimming in her eyes.

"Save your apologies. What's done is done." His utter resignation made her chest ache.

They danced on in silence, her head resting under his chin, his arm cinched around her waist. She knew she'd made the right choice those years ago—she had been too young and Toby needed to be saved. Yet somehow, in this quiet moment, she couldn't deny the sense of wrongness at knowing that they would part ways again—this time permanently. She felt as though she were caught in some mythical tale—a story of star-crossed lovers, drawn to each other by an inexplicable force, but never meant to be.

She tried to push away the wistful thoughts, chiding herself for being overdramatic, but the ache persisted. If he loved her so deeply, why didn't Jareth fight for her? Why didn't he demand that she stay with him—threaten to throw Jeff into an oubliette for daring to love his Sarah? _Unless_… The image of a beautiful woman with golden ringlets crossed Sarah's mind.

"Who is she?" she asked, already guessing the answer. "The woman you were with, I mean."

Jareth blew out a sigh. "She is what I had once intended you to be—my queen."

Sarah nodded. "I'm… I'm glad that you have someone." It hurt her to say the words on the heels of discovering her own wish that things had been different.

He heaved another sigh, even deeper than the first, stirring her hair with his breath. "But not the one I want." His words were almost a whisper.

Sarah didn't respond—what could she say? The sorrow in his tone was palpable; it tightened her chest like a vice. _If only… _Her body shook, and she realized that she was crying.

Their dancing came to a halt, and Jareth lifted her chin. "Weeping for your villain, Sarah? How generous of you to offer me your pity."

"No." She shook her head. "You're not the villain, Jareth." _I'm the one who hurt you. What does that make me? _She tried to turn away, but he held her gaze.

Slowly, he dried her wet cheeks with his fingers. "Is there no end to your cruelty? Can I never be free of you?"

Before she could answer, he leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She felt everything in his kiss—his love, his regret, his desires, his despair. It crashed into her, seizing her every cell, enhanced by the magic that flowed through his blood. It was both beautiful and terrible, and she clutched his coat as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks. She experienced an eternity of loss in a mere heartbeat.

He broke off the kiss before she could drown completely in the powerful sensation. "Goodbye, my Sarah." He stepped back and faded into nothing.

Sarah reached for him, but he was gone. She fell, hurtling toward the ground. She expected to crumple against the earth, but there was no end to her descent. Blackness swallowed her as a torrent of conflicting emotions swept through her like a raging storm.

She shot up in bed, crying out Jareth's name. For a moment she was disoriented as she took in her surroundings. Instead of the copse of trees she had been expecting, she saw the white walls of her hotel room. She pressed the palms of her hands against her eyes, and took a deep breath. It had been a dream, something her overactive imagination had fabricated on the eve of her wedding.

Only a dream, but it had been so vivid. She could still smell the fresh, green loam of the forest floor and hear the soft music from the meadow. She could still feel his arm around her, his gloved fingers as he caressed her cheek, the burn on her lips from his despondent kiss. Her chest constricted, as if her heart had been sliced to pieces and had healed imperfectly.

She shook the painful images from her mind. Her brow furrowed when she saw that she still wore the same dress from the night before, small flecks of glitter dusted it, sparkling in the morning light. She climbed out of bed and inspected her shoes, finding them scuffed and dirty. Sarah's hand went to her mouth. It hadn't been a dream!

She flung open the french doors to the balcony, unsure of what she was doing. She crossed to the railing and stared down at the blanket of evergreens, searching… Searching for what? For him? Why? She gazed at the forest for several long heartbeats before she understood that some part of her wanted to give him a proper goodbye—a more definitive closure. She sighed. Closure? Was that even possible?

Sarah stepped away from the balcony. None of this mattered now. The past was the past, and she was on the cusp of a new chapter—one that did not involve mythical realms and handsome, haughty monarchs. The magic of that world would only live on in the stories she penned. Today she was marrying a wonderful man—one who made her laugh, who shared her zeal for adventure, reveled in her imagination and treated her like a queen. It was the life she wanted, despite her brief detour on the road not taken.

She paused at the double doors, turning back toward the sea of trees. "Goodbye, Jareth," she whispered. "Goodbye forever."

**~FIN~**

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><p><strong>AN:** The unhappy endings are out of my system entirely (*_cough_*for the time being*_cough_*), I promise! I have a multitude of crack!fic, humor/romance, and one drama/romance (epic even) planned for this pairing. (I won't mention the horror story idea. Probably not a good time to talk about that.)

Anyway, if you've made it all the way to the end and aren't too angry for words, please take a moment to let me know what you thought of this tale. The more reviews I get, the chances increase that I will write lots of happily-ever-after tales. It's a scientifically proven fact! (And it's not extortion, either. Nope, not at all.)**  
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